


Storms

by Bandita_Dieci



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:40:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2376836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandita_Dieci/pseuds/Bandita_Dieci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's just a storm, my love. There's no need to fear; I won't let anything hurt you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storms

Cora had never been one for children, but she'd always believed when she held her own agaainst her chest, a son or daughter of her own flesh and blood suckling at her breast, she'd feel differently Yet holding Regina only reminded her of the other daughter she'd left behind all those years ago - the babe with golden curls and bright eyes. There was no hope of comparing the two - Regina, the important one whom the imp desired, was dark like her father - burnt hair, coal eyes - while Zelena, the bastard child, was spun light, contrasting her hardened father with the idiot naivety of her mother.

It wasn't until Regina was older that Cora could look on her without seeing the child she'd abandoned.

Now her daughter, not quite past two, stood trembling in front of her, dark eyes wide as rain pelted their castle. Her little hands gripped the skirt of her dress, wringing wrinkles into the soft fabric. She twisted one way then another as lightning flashed outside, jumping an inch when thunder rattled through the stone walls, but her pleading eyes never left her mother's face.

Cora smiled - the light almost reaching her hollow eyes - and picked her daughter up, cradling her in her arms. The girl shivered, tense in her mother's careful grasp, and hid her face in the crook of her mother's neck, curling up into as small a ball as she could manage. When it seemed she couldn't make herself any tinier than she already was, Cora stroked her daughter's tangled mass of curls, kissing her on the forehead once as Regina looked up at her with those dark, innocent eyes.

"It's just a storm, my love. There's no need to fear; I won't let  _anything_  hurt you."

At her words, Regina buried her head even further into her mother's chest, tiny hands tangling themselves into the folds of her gown. Her eyes clenched together, tears soaking through to her skin - or perhaps that was the drops of heavy rain pelting through the cracks in their walls.

Cora breathed it all in and felt faint with the humidity.

A long time ago, when she was still small, her mother told her stories to distract her from certain painful things. Although she refused to believe  _her_  daughter would have to undergo any of that pain, the principle still stood. Right now, the child needed a distraction from the storm - hiding in her mother's arms was one thing, but she needed another form of comfort. A story would have to do.

She rocked Regina to the side and bent down, nuzzling her cheek.

"Once upon a time," she began, the lull of her voice immediately causing her daughter to pull even closer, "there was a miller and his daughter. They lived together in a mill far from town, where the daughter did most of the work."

"Where was Mama?" Regina asked, her voice small and muffled by her mother's gown.

"Gone." Cora's voice was short, sudden, and full of bitterness. Better that she didn't speak of the woman or of what happened to her. Regina shuddered in her arms once again, and Cora rubbed her back, bending down closer to her. "Don't worry, my love. Mother will  _never_  leave you."

Regina nodded once into her chest. "Good."

Her hand wandered to her daughter's hair, stroking the dark curls once more, and her steps echoed against the stone as she walked towards her daughter's room. "One day, the daughter learned there was to be a ball in the prince's honor and, despite her father's wishes, stole a gorgeous dress and went to the ball. She was tired of working and working and wanted nothing more than to be loved." She bent her face closer to Regina's once more, nuzzling her as the thunder echoed through the stone walls again. "While she was there, she met your papa."

"Papa!" Regina giggled and looked up, eyes wide, the storm forgotten. "You the lady?"

A grin lit Cora's face. "Of course, my love."

They came to a stop in front of Regina's room and paused. "But your grandfather — an evil, evil man — decided that the miller's daughter wasn't good enough for his son and locked her away until she could spin straw into gold." Cora leaned into the door, holding Regina safely against her, then frowned. "A room much, much smaller than this one."

A few more feet and she stood in front of Regina's bed - a canopy, because she was a princess and, even though she was young, she was spoiled by her father (that man would never learn). She sat on the edge of the bed and glanced down at her daughter. "Do you want down?"

Regina nodded once, loosening her grasp on the edges of her mother's gown, but, on being let down, curled up in her mother's lap. Cora shook her head once, firm as a mother  _should_  be, and picked up her daughter once more, laying her beneath sheets and blankets, tucking her in before tickling her stomach once. Her daughter giggled - a piercing sound - and a smile lit up her face.

"What happen?" But even as she asked, Regina curled beneath the blankets, eyelids drooping as a child's can when worn out by fear and stories.

Taking this as her cue, Cora stood to leave, but as soon as she did so, a loud clap of thunder burst just outside of the window. Regina sat straight up, eyes focused on her mother, and Cora  _sighed_. She glanced around the room, eyes lighting on a spinning wheel in the far corner, and she pulled it over, sitting down just next to her daughter's bed.

"Watch."

She didn't need the straw, just the power thrumming through her fingers, twisting the weave and firming it until gold span out the other end. In a moment like this, perhaps she should be focusing on the gasp of wonder slipping through her daughter's lips, but her mind was elsewhere - on the imp and her father-in-law and beating hearts placed in boxes and locked far away where nothing could harm them.

"The story has a happy ending, of course," she said suddenly as she stops spinning, her eyes turning to her daughter once more.

"You married Papa!" Regina exclaimed, smile spreading across her chubby cheeks.

For a long time, Cora doesn't say anything, content to let her daughter believe what she will. But as the thunder and lightning subside, the darkness becoming warm and familiar around them, Regina drifting off with one hand curled around her mother's finger, she could not help but lean down and, with a kiss on her daughter's cheek, softly correct her—

"No, my love. ...I had  _ **you**_."


End file.
